L'esprit de l'escalier
by Descartre
Summary: Spike returns to Sunnydale in season 3 to participate in SlayerFest 1998 and gets much more than he originally bargains for. Full of Spuffy goodness, innuendo and much awkwardness.
1. Welcome Back

This is my first story from the Buffyverse. It's been a very long time since I've written anything, so your feedback is greatly appreciated (feel free to nitpick). I'll have much more to upload... tonight, as soon as I get the formatting right.

Disclaimer (Is this mandatory? Everyone does it. Oh well!) I own nothing from the Buffyverse. It all belongs to that super awesome writer guy, Joss Whedon.

Since this is an entirely Spuffy focused fic, I'm sure you guys won't mind that I've omitted Angel's little fall (rise?) to Earth in season 3 for the sake of story flow. For some crazy reason, Buffy always preferred him to Spike when he was around. D: Silly slayer. Pretty much everything else has been kept as it was in the series... With the huge addition of Spike.

Alrighty, have at it!

* * *

><p>Chapter 1: Welcome Back<p>

* * *

><p>"Competition is a beautiful thing, makes us strive, makes us accomplish, occasionally makes us kill." The bloke who'd organized this game must have thought he'd been the one to give the Saint Crispen's Day speech, the way he carried on.<p>

"First target is Buffy, the second is Faith, a little more elusive. They will both be together and ready for the killing-" Spike stopped listening at that point. Two slayers in one go? Play your cards right and it could be one hell of a good day. Spike wasn't the type to play anyone's whipping boy, but he also couldn't pass up a golden opportunity. The vampire was halfway back from Brazil, and well on his way to tearing the girl who'd destroyed his happy unlife to messes, when this Trick person had contacted him with an interesting and undeniably attractive proposition. Needless to say, Trick was very interested in recruiting the slayer of slayers for the first ever slaying of slayers competition, even after Spike had refused to pay his sodding entry fee. This fellow had devised a plan to get a whole team of hunters together, all people that wanted the slayer's head on a spit.

Looking around, Spike realized that the contest might end up getting very ugly... for the contestants, not the slayer. These grand hunters included a couple of Germans with computers, some redneck vampires? A bounty hunter and some nasty yellow thing with knives in his arms... Didn't he know that the slayer only played with the good-looking ones? This motley crew had no idea what they were up against. They could have the other slayer... if they managed, but Spike would be damned if they laid a hand on his girl. Buffy was his.

"Welcome to SlayerFest 98."

* * *

><p>Spike sat with his feet propped up on the dashboard of his Desoto, nursing a bottle of Teacher's bourbon and waiting patiently for the slayer to make her appearance. Safely parked under a tree, he watched the young and tasty students go about their business, flirting, laughing, soaking up the sun. He idly thought of himself when he was a schoolboy, Eton and Sunnydale High School had nothing in common though of course, he'd received a much higher education at Eton. There was no way any of those California brats were half as literate they should have been. Everyone in the sodding state conversed in a near incomprehensible slur of valley-talk, slang, and grammatically butchered English.<p>

The slayer's old nemesis grinned when he saw his target enter the courtyard and come into his field of view, he grabbed his binoculars to check it out. She was wearing pink... and ruffles, he scoffed at that. A girl so ferocious, with such a penchant for violence shouldn't wear such innocent and ridiculous things, she was a walking bloody contradiction, she'd be more suited to wearing entrails. When the slayer was costuming as a normal-girl, she reminded him of the Victorian girls he grew up with- fragile, nubile, very easy on the eyes, and absolutely snobbish. Women, they were all bloody teases, you couldn't satisfy them! Oh sure you could try, but they'd just end up leaving you for some slimy disgusting chaos demon. He took another angry swig from the bottle and refocused his attention on the slayer. It's not as if he actually needed to stake Buffy out for the killing, but she was fun to watch, always kept him guessing. Something strange boiled up inside him as he watched the scene fold out before him. Buffy had just found some barely post-pubescent boy and she seemed to be pretty sweet on him. Spike perked up his ears, ready for a good show.

"I think we should break up," the boy admitted.

"You do? I mean... Where was I?" She looked and sounded genuinely confused. It figured that the slayer would be much too caught up in herself as usual to notice anyone around her, the girl was a menace to mankind.

"It's just... Buffy, before we were going out, you seemed so full of life, like a force of nature. Now you just seem distracted all the time."

"I'm getting better," Buffy begged without much heart, "Honest. From here on out you are going to see a drastic distraction reduction..." Awkward silence. "Drastic distraction reduction? Try saying that ten times fast?" She finished lamely.

"I'm really really sorry." The boy looked at Buffy pityingly and left her to stand there at a complete loss. Mangy git! Sure the slayer could be a stuck-up tight-ass with no sense of fun, but she was a right catch and a half!

Where in the bloody hell was this sense of sympathy coming from? Oh right, because he was in the same sodding rowboat because of this super slayer bitch. Dru had been saying ever since they left Sunny D that he was covered in the slayer. The real love of his life was incomprehensibly angry with him because he apparently wasn't able to let Buffy go. Unable to let her go? They weren't even in the same hemisphere! He took him and Dru far away, all the way to Brazil, and she still continued all her moaning and groaning nonsense about how he tasted like ashes and saying that there was no hope for him. So although he hated the slayer for ruining his sodding life, he felt a little bad for her. They were both victims of loneliness and heartbreak.

"We few, we happy few," Spike muttered and lit the cigarette dangling from his lips.

* * *

><p>Buffy evaluated the sight before her, measuring up her opponents to form a plan of attack. Did they seriously think could beat her? They had no idea who they were messing with. Oh no, the slayer was on vacation. These girls had unleashed Buffy, the Prom Queen within. A campaign was like a war, it was won or lost in the trenches. She thoughtfully jotted down bad skin under Michelle's weaknesses column, and then preceded to check her own pores in a compact mirror. Oh yeah, Buffy smirked, she had this in the bag.<p>

Her friends may not have been willing to help her in the battle against Cordelia, but as the slayer, loneliness was in her blood. She'd use all the good and the bad to her advantage. Yes. She even had an idea for Buffy Summers campaign posters: simple, shy, deep. Boys liked that, right?

Now shopping for the perfect dress? That might pose a problem.

* * *

><p>Spike chuckled as he watched the slayer play domestic the next day at school. She was skipping about in her perfect little spring dress with her bouncy, shampoo commercial hair. She looked good enough to eat. His stomach growled. The girl was a bloody fang-tease, among other things.<p>

As if to add insult to injury, the girl was passing out absolutely massive cupcakes and clearly pretending she'd baked them herself.

"It's not going to work slayer! Everybody knows you're a bloody bitch," he growled and rummaged through his things to find some freshly bottled blood. Definitely wasn't anything compared to what Buffy would taste like, he was sure of that, but her classmates certainly weren't the worst he'd ever had.

Spike lost himself in a daydream. What it would be to drain the slayer dry on her homecoming night. She'd be all wrapped up like a pretty little present, just for him... Looking the best she'd ever looked, hair sleek and shiny, neck and shoulders bare and tan, beckoning him, and she had those those glossy lips. In his fantasy she was delicious, spicy.

Since the first time Spike and the slayer had met, she'd gone through a great number of changes, the big character-altering ones, not the least of which included dying. At that point in her young life, the slayer was still trying to be someone else, she was still in denial of her calling. Just as she matured physically, mentally, grew sharper, harder, the look in her eyes changed too. She used to be frightened like a little lamb, she was powerful, but unaware of her own strength... she was uncontrolled. Now when Spike looked at her, he could see that she was all grown up.

The slayer now had the look of someone that had seen a lot of death in their life, but somehow she still held inside her the tenderness and strength of the caring and protective friend she'd always been. Her friends still trampled all over her and piggybacked off her glory, her apocalypse averted was their apocalypse, and he could see it starting to weigh on her. Buffy was becoming a creature of the night, just like him.

* * *

><p>Please review if you have the time... Which you probably do if you're reading fanfiction. Oh yes! It's go time, Spuffy fans!<p> 


	2. Competition, Competition, Competition

Chapter 2: Competition

* * *

><p>The last few days had been absolute torment for Buffy. As much as she hated to admit it, and definitely would not do so out loud, Cordelia was one hell of a contender. Apocalypses, flesh-eating demons, master vampires bent on her destruction? None of that scared Buffy, she was the slayer. Now, hormonal evil girls with perfect bodies, connections, endless supplies of money, and absolutely no connection from their brain to their mouth? That was something worth worrying about.<p>

Despite all that though, Buffy remained confident. She figured that superpowers generally came with a slightly inflated ego and sense of pride. Whatever this world had to throw at her next, she was ready.

Eager to meet up with her date and pick up the rest of her friends despite all the campaign weirdness, Buffy was positively glowing as she crawled into the limousine they had all pitched for. Her face fell when she found something she wasn't expecting.

"What's going on here? Where's Faith?"

Cordelia rolled her eyes and without saying a word, passed Buffy a note that their friends had left for them.

_Dear Cordelia and Buffy,_ _We won't be riding to the dance with you._ _We want you to work out your problems_ _because our friendships are more important_ _than who wins Homecoming Queen._ _Your friends._  
><em>P.S. The limo was not cheap. Work it out.<em>

You have got to be kidding me. Buffy placed the card back down between them. 'Ooh pretty!' She thought as she grabbed a decorative plastic box wrapped with ribbon.

"They bought us corsages?"

"I took the orchid." Cordelia still refused to look at her.

"Okay."

Little more went on between them for the rest of the car ride besides some arguing over who got which flower. Buffy finally accepted that Cordelia get the orchid to go with her sallow complexion. Did she had to make a big deal out of everything? Seriously? How many times had she saved her life? Not once did she ever get even a thank you!

When the car came to a stop, both girls scrambled out of the car, eager to get back to civilization and far away from each other.

'Woah,' Buffy thought when she immediately absorbed their surroundings. Somehow her and Cordelia had ended up in the middle of the woods. Sunnydale wasn't a big town by any means. This wasn't a mistake, they were set up.

"What is this? Okay guys! We've had enough of your games!" Cordelia looked around in apparent distress, still obviously expecting someone to jump out and yell surprise. "Umm this isn't right!" She frantically tapped on the window, trying to get the driver's attention.

Buffy on the other hand was already in slayer mode. Within seconds, she noticed the very large and out of place television and VCR sitting on a rock.

"What's massively wrong with this picture?" She had Cordelia's rapt attention as she slowly approached the VCR as if expecting it to bite and pressed play. Some random guy neither of them knew appeared on the screen.

"Hello ladies," He greeted them on the pre-recorded video. "Welcome to SlayerFest '98." Buffy's insides twisted a bit. Did he realize how much she paid for this dress? And hello! Places to be!

"What is a SlayerFest, you ask?" 'I have a pretty good guess,' Buffy thought.

"Well, as in most of life, there's the hunters and the hunted. Can you guess where you two fall? From the beginning of this tape, you have exactly thirty seconds," he checked his watch, "no, that's seventeen now-to run for your lives." Cordelia looked at Buffy in panic. "Faith..." The man on the video smiled hugely, "Buffy... Have a nice death."

Cordelia went on ranting to anyone listening about how she wasn't a slayer. Knowing her efforts would be in vain, Buffy didn't even bother asking her to shut up and instead opted to ignore her temporary companion. She was good at ignoring, over the last few years she'd honed the skill by ignoring her friends' rambles during patrol. In the distance, a gun sounded. Both girls gasped and had a moment of fight of flight. The monitor exploded and it sent both girls went running, really for their lives.

* * *

><p>"I am <em>so<em> not wearing the right shoes for this," Buffy grumbled as she scanned the forest, trying to get them both to safety. Here she went, saving both of their lives again.

"Look out!" Cordelia shrieked. Buffy narrowly avoided getting her leg caught in a giant bear trap. Weaponless but still resourceful as ever, the slayer hurled the sprung trap at the man who had set it. The idiot didn't see it coming when he took the heavy metal object straight to the face, stumbling backward into another of his traps. He howled in pain as it snapped shut around his calf. Buffy winced, he might need that later in life. Or sooner, she considered, legs were really nice to have in general He tried with no success to tear it off, it wouldn't give, and tore into his flesh a little more every time he moved. Wow, they made those traps pretty good. If she didn't hate Cordelia so much at the moment, she might have actually thanked her for the warning.

"That's gotta smart," Buffy growled at her hunter. He was still struggling with the trap on the ground when she snatched up his gun and leveled it between his eyes. She'd never used one of these things, definitely not gun-girl, but he didn't know that.

"Now I can let you out of that or I can put a bullet in your head. How many are there in this little game and what are they packing?" Buffy pumped her rifle to show the guy who she was messing with. One more mishap and she'd fire a warning shot... Might even miss and hit something important. Who knew?

"There's me, two Germans with AR-15's and a grenade launcher, a yellow-skinned demon with long knives, a vampire couple from Texas named Gorch."

"That everybody?"

The hunter opened his mouth to say something, but before the words could make it out, he took a crossbow bolt to the chest. Things were starting to get very interesting, fast. Cordelia started to run her mouth again but was shortly after silenced when some mean looking knives narrowly missed her and lodged themselves in a nearby tree.

* * *

><p>"Come on." Buffy towed the falsely identified slayer behind her until they reached a run-down cabin. "We should be safe in here for awhile. You need to find a weapon."<p>

Cordelia went off on a self-pity trip, it was pretty typical in people who thought they were going to die. It was just more annoying when Cordelia did it. You'd think she'd be used to life threatening situations by now.

"Don't worry." Buffy made a weak attempt to comfort her almost friend. "We're going to get out of here, we're going to head back to the library where Giles and the rest of the weapons live. Then I'm going to take out the rest of these guys just in time for you to congratulate me on my sweeping victory as Homecoming queen." Buffy returned to her place at the window, waiting for something to happen. Something Cordelia said caught her attention. "You really love Xander?" Buffy raised an eyebrow. She oftentimes couldn't tell if they even liked each other.

"Well he kinda grows on me like a Chia Pet" Cordelia rummaged through a drawer and found a spatula.

"Is that everything?" Buffy frowned at her choice of weapon.

"What? There's only this and a telephone."

"And you didn't think that would be useful?"

"No see! This is better for-" she made a sad whacking movement in the air. The slayer rolled her eyes and looked at Cordelia pointedly. She formed a little 'o' with her mouth as the realization dawned on her. Half way through their attempt to leave a message, the phone line went dead. Buffy sighed in defeat.

"Why is it every time I go somewhere with you, it always ends in violence and terror?" Cordelia sat down and huffed in defeat.

"Welcome to my life," Buffy muttered.

"All I wanted was to be homecoming queen."

"And that's all I wanted too, Cordelia." She sighed. "This is all I do. This is what my life is. You couldn't understand. I just thought... Homecoming Queen. I could pick up a yearbook someday and say, I was there. I went to high school, I had friends, and... for one moment, I got to live in the world. And there'd be proof. Proof that I was chosen for something other than this." Not one for emotional tirades and speeches, Buffy pulled herself together. "Besides," she pumped her rifle again, "I look cute in a tiara."

As if on queue, a spiny yellow demon came crashing unceremoniously through one of the windows. He knocked Buffy to the ground immediately and her gun skittered across the floor and out of her reach. The demon slashed at her with his serrated knives, putting up a mean fight, and Buffy had narrowly managed to avoid getting seriously dead. Cordelia was no help at all, trying to beat him with the spatula, and then not even getting the right direction when she finally picked up the gun. Buffy made a mental note never to give her a marks-weapon again.

Before Buffy could send the big ugly back to hell, a funny looking grenade clattered to the floor next to them. Buffy grabbed Cordelia and they ran like hell to get out of the cabin, barely making it in time as they leapt through the window. Behind them the cabin exploded into a giant inferno, pieces and debris flying everywhere and the fire raging behind them. She almost felt bad for their new demon pal, way to pick the only shuttered window to escape through!

"We gotta get back to the library," Buffy breathed when they reached temporary safety.

* * *

><p>Reviews? :D Come on! Knock some sense into me!<p> 


	3. Big Bad

Chapter 3: Big Bad

* * *

><p>Unwilling to fight the slayer until all the other hunters were eliminated, Spike tailed the two girls back to the library. He didn't want their confrontation to be interrupted, and this time he wouldn't make the mistake of being impatient. It took him mere seconds to realize that he recognized the second "slayer" from when he had organized his attack on the school.<p>

Morons, he thought. None of the other contestants had bothered to do their research. Shaking in their boots over Buffy and this fetching, tall and athletic, but undeniably ordinary teenage girl. You'd think self-proclaimed slayer-hunters would be able to recognize what did and what did not make a slayer.

Spike was impressed when the girl he came to know as Cordelia, dispatched, for lack of a better term, both of the Gorch vampires. She might have used a more impressive weapon than a spatula, but hey! Who knew they still made those things out of wood? She'd put up an interesting struggle. He made a note to eat her on a later date.

The master vampire got a small sense of satisfaction upon seeing the slayer's face fall in disappointment when she did not win her precious homecoming crown, though he couldn't imagine why all the pimply-faced boys in her school weren't falling over her, were they blind? The slayer was a real cutie in her little tea-dress and matching sandals. She looked even better at the end of the night with her hair all mussed up like she'd just been shagged rotten, her dress hanging off one shoulder, and battle wounds. He wondered where she had hidden her stake.

* * *

><p>Buffy sighed as she walked home from the dance, she was amazed at how robotic just walking could feel, automatic, necessary. Yes, Buffy was a walking machine. No way was she going to get back into that limo after what happened tonight. No siree. She had two legs and they were there for a reason, exhausted fro all that running or not. Her friends were still there. After Faith abandoned her for some "good old-fashioned boy-using," Buffy split. No need to stick around and get rejected even more than she'd already been.<p>

The slayer mentally cycled through the events of the night. Even though that hunter was trying to kill her and Cordelia, she would never get used to seeing a human die... The way the life left their eyes, it wasn't the same as it was with vampires. Vampires, they just went poof- No questions as to what would happen to their soul when their body was no longer in service. Vampires were just gone when they died again, and that worked for her. Her next thought stopped her dead in her tracks. No one she'd came across that night had a crossbow. Someone else didn't want her to know that "there's another player in the game," Buffy said aloud.

"Good work, love." A familiar husky English accent sounded through the air. Buffy whirled around to see Spike. "Wondered how long it would take you to figure that one out. Not that I minded hanging around your little dance. Really slayer, you should hold those in the daytime. An open bloody buffet."

"Spike," she groaned. "I thought you said I wouldn't see you again. What happened to that? I liked that plan." Spike growled at her, it was easy to forget how much of a bitch she was when he wasn't talking to her. "Ooh scary," Buffy mocked him and continued to walk, showing him how much of a threat she really thought he was. "So you're the bonus level huh? I took down all the rest, what makes you any different?"

"Come on Slayer, you know they were just fodder. I'm the big bad."

"Fine, let's just do this quickly." She'd decided to take a shortcut through one of Sunnydale's many cemeteries, a perfect stage for their little showdown.

"Now slayer, I'm a gentleman. I'll make it last for you." Spike grinned at her. His cockiness was short lived as Buffy shoved him hard and he nearly lost his footing. Spike noted that she wasn't up to her usual strength though, probably from losing her own competition. The slayer's emotions always showed in her work, and the state she was in wouldn't do at all. "Feelin' alright slayer? This stuff usually hurts."

"Oh don't worry, you're in for a world of pain." The spark in Buffy's eye ignited as she launched herself at the blonde vampire and landed a mean kick to his midsection.

"Kinky," Spike leered at her and blocked her next punch, grabbing her wrists and holding her up against him. "Didn't know you liked it like that."

Unwilling to take a cheap shot at him under the belt, Buffy summoned enough strength to break free from his hold and threw her elbow into his nose. Spike was surprised to see her smiling. She was enjoying this. God she was like fire. Poetry in motion. They fell into a violent dance. Both ducking and parrying each other's moves, and both taking serious blows.

"Getting tired, love?" Spike panted unnecessarily. Buffy noted not for the first time that he was a very strange vampire.

"I'm just getting started," she grinned. "You?"

"I could dance with you all night."

The blondes expertly traded a few more blows before Spike saw an opening and lunged at the slayer. She rolled forward at the same time, avoiding his grasp, and the vampire plunged headlong into a gravestone behind her. Buffy wasted no time in dropping to the ground and straddling him, stake positioned over his heart.

"Are you going to do me like that slayer?" Spike laughed darkly and curled his tongue behind his teeth. If he was going out now, he was going to make her realize how dirty she really was. In his last few moments of unlife he reveled without guilt in the feeling of the slayer all around him. Bare legs wrapped around his hips, hand on his chest holding him in place with a saucy little look on her face. Power radiated from her skin, he could smell it, like amber, cinnamon, and- was that what he thought it was? Spike raised an eyebrow at the slayer. The scent hit him like a ton of bricks. "I turn you on, slayer!" He exclaimed unthinkingly.

"What?" She shrieked and scrambled off of him, her lips parted and jaw hanging loosely in bewilderment. 'Pretty mouth,' Spike thought as he measured her expression, rising up and slowly approaching her like the predator he was.

"You're seriously unhinged." The slayer's tone was solid and cocky as always, but her eyes told a different story. She looked at him like she was trying very hard to compose herself. Ignoring the stake Buffy still held high, Spike grabbed her roughly and slammed his mouth against hers in a passionate and scorching kiss. Buffy returned the kiss with equal force moaning slightly before she tore herself away, completely shocked at what she had done. Spike thought for sure that she would run as she stared at him and brought a hand up to touch her mouth in disbelief of what she had just done, instead she pushed him angrily to the ground and preceded to kiss him with so much need and ardor, he thought he would burst into flame.

Ignoring everything in his nature, Spike complied to her without any hesitation at all, flipping her over so that she was writhing underneath him, running his hands all over her silky exposed skin, working his mouth over her neck and shoulders as the slayer panted and moaned.

"Spike, I want you." Buffy gasped for air and held him forcibly to her as if she couldn't get enough of him.

"Buffy I love you," he growled against her skin. "God, I love you so much."

Both the vampire and the slayer stilled immediately at that. Spike gasped in horror and let her go as if she were poisonous. The slayer stared after him, dumbfounded as he bolted without another word, but he refused to look back, he just kept running.

* * *

><p>You know the drill! (;<p>

I always thought - ;) Looked like some unattractive drunk girl eying you from across the bar... Or maybe I just have issues with semicolons due to my overuse in the past.


	4. Distractions

Chapter 4: Distractions

* * *

><p>Buffy snapped the headphones to her Walkman over her ears as soon as she climbed through her window that night, cranking up the volume to full blast and trying to drown out the fresh memory of what she had just done with Spike, with the sexual energy still buzzing through her.<p>

"Don't think about the evil, soulless vampire. Think about anything but the evil, soulless vampire," she repeated the mantra over and over again. It was several minutes before Buffy realized that she'd been listening to Nina Persson from the Cardigans belt out the lyrics to Lovefool, over, and over, and over again. _Love me, love me. Say that you love me... _

Ugh, what was wrong with her? It was Spike for crying out loud! He was icky and wore stupid clothes and had amazing cheekbones and perfectly sculpted muscles that she could just... God, how she wanted him! _So I cry, and I pray, and I beg... _

Had she wanted Angel this bad? It was a fluke! She was just worked up from their fight. _Go on and fool me..._ She was doomed.

* * *

><p>Spike wasted no time in getting back to his crypt, and back to his generous stash of alcohol and cigarettes. Lit cigarette planted firmly in his mouth and bottle of whiskey in hand, Spike fumbled around his collection of records for some mood music. Something he could bang his head against the wall to. He'd never been more furious with himself, he'd gone too far, caught up in the heat of the moment, in the slayer. <em>Sweet sixteen in leather boots...<em>

He remembered the sight of her swinging her hips to some song at The Bronze the other night, looking like she should be illegal in her barely there dress and come-fuck-me boots. He couldn't get the image of Buffy out of his mind, the sexy little manx moaning beneath him, begging for him. He hurt for her. _Body and soul, I go crazy... _

He couldn't take it anymore, with his mouth hanging open and one hand supporting himself up against the wall, Spike released himself from his jeans, pumping himself with a painfully tight and punishing fist._ I'll show you my explosion... _

He gritted his teeth as he came all over his hand and dropped to his knees, exhausted, heaving, and not even close to being satisfied. _I give you my body and soul, sweet sixteen._

* * *

><p>he next few days went by for Buffy without incident, Spike incident, not hellmouthy incident, there was plenty of that. Unless you counted Faith constantly prompting her to spill about who she got lucky with at homecoming, which lets face it, was also to be expected. Buffy half-honestly but consistently insisted that she had no idea what she was talking about, that she'd walked home and that was that.<p>

Buffy felt like she did the day after she'd slept with Angel and he too made with the disappearing act. What was it with her and guys that wouldn't stick around? Even Scott, Mr. Normal had left her. Although Buffy was sure that she absolutely did _not_ want to see Spike again, she was pretty disappointed when he'd chosen not to stick around. Hello! Vampire slayer here! Attempted conquest number three of his undead life?

That's it, there was only one thing that could remedy this little spell she was under, some good old fashioned shagging... her eyes widened as she realized the double-meaning of the word, running! Some good old fashioned running! Stupid Englishmen and their stupid words.

Buffy's trainers padded against the night pavement, at first successfully distracted her from her thoughts, distracting her from Spike. Buffy frowned though as she realized that her feet automatically carried her toward the graveyard that witnessed her and Spike's little episode. She turned on her heel immediately and high-tailed it out of there toward town. Town was good. There was absolutely nothing in town at this time of night to bother her. As she ran though, each scuff of her foot seemed to shout his name at her. "Spike. Spike. Spike. Spike." They mocked her.

She seriously contemplated giving thanks to God when she came down with a serious case of the tinglies, like big, BIG bad tinglies. That is until she realized that there was not just one baddie ahead of her, but a whole troupe of vampires, there must have been fifteen of them! More or less fledglings, but wow, fifteen was fifteen! And what were they doing just standing around? It was like they were all gathered around something... or someone. She got a little closer, trying to suss out what they were all looking at, and then the crowd erupted into action.

The lead vamp erupted into a cloud of dust and she saw him, Spike. Spike everywhere, Spike expertly eradicating them, one by one, and he looked like he was having the time of his life, grinning laughing as he absolutely slaughtered them. Jerk! How dare he be having so much fun when she felt like this? He lithely ran up the front of a car, and using it as his stage, slamming a thick toed boot into one of the vampire's jaws. It was like watching one of those martial arts movies, where every move is perfectly choreographed to be as effective as possible, only he was doing it so right! Buffy resigned herself to standing back and watching the beautiful display of strength and violence that unfolded before her.

* * *

><p>Nothing but the need to survive blared through Spike. He relished the moment. No thoughts of Drusilla, the slayer, his poncy grandsire Angelus- Spike was living in the moment. The vampire who'd organized an attack on him would be the sorriest pile of dust the earth had ever seen. He picked a baaad day. William the Bloody earned his nickname, tearing through the group and ripping their heads from their bodies. He'd come a long way since falling at the hands of that angry human mob in England as a nondiscriminatory fledgling. Who was he kidding? He was still nondiscriminatory, humankind demonkind? They were all a good spot of violence to him.<p>

When he was down to the last attacker, Spike toyed with him.

"Go on, run then." The vampire tried to take off, but Spike grabbed him by the back of his shirt and yanked him back, slamming a stake through his chest. "Well! That was FUN!" Spike roared victoriously to no one in particular, then turned around. "Don't tell me that wasn't fun, slayer," he smirked at her. "Did you plan on jumping in anytime?"

"You looked like you could handle it yourself." She crossed her arms self-consciously, clearly embarrassed at having been caught staring at him.

"Was that a compliment?" He leered at her and walked toward her with his predatory, smooth gait.

"Maybe I was hoping one of them would get lucky," she sneered.

"Right." Spike looked her up and down. She looked adorable in her running gear. Skin still glistening with sweat and hair pulled back into a pert little ponytail. He swore she was purposefully flaunting that tasty neck of hers. Naughty, naughty girl. He had to get out of there before she ruined his good mood. "Well I'll be seeing you," he promised and retreated with well-earned unhurried swagger.

* * *

><p>I think Spike's little lovehate obsession with Buffy is such a hoot.

Oh right. I usually have mixed feelings about incorporating lyrics into fanfic, but I felt that I need it this time.

Buffy's song is called Lovefool, it's by The Cardigans circa 1997 (I believe).

Spike is listening to some good old fashioned Iggy Pop. Oh yes, moody, energetic, Spikesque. The song is called Sweet Sixteen. If you haven't heard it, give it a listen on youtube. Seriously.

Please review, dears. (I luff you :3)


	5. Want, Take, Have

Thank you to those who reviewed. I really appreciate your feedback! If I have any annoying writing habits, please let me know, and I'll work on 'em. I'll consider any plot ideas you may have as there might be a few sighs and disagreements over the end of this little ditty.

-Descartre

* * *

><p>Chapter 5: Want, Take Have<p>

* * *

><p>"You're a liar. I've <em>seen<em> you. Tell me staking a vamp doesn't get you a little bit juiced. Come on, say it."

Buffy found an interesting spot on the ground to stare at as she avoided answering. Every time Faith and her got together, she found herself victim to hundreds of sexy accusations. Seriously, it wasn't her fault that the undead men in her life just happened to be unfairly attractive. Everytime she fought Spike at least, it seemed her Buffy Id was working overtime. Must have been part of that super slayer-ego thing.

"You can't fool me. The look in your eyes right after a kill? You just get hungry for more."

"You're way off base."

She had to admit to herself though, Faith was right. It felt like the only way she could get off was with carnage and slaying. There were nights when she could think about nothing but going to the graveyard and finding herself a good lay. SLAY! Buffy screamed back at her conscience, wide-eyed. Slay! Not lay! She wondered where that came from.

"Tell me that if you don't get in a good slaying, after a while, you just start itching for some vamp to show up so you can give him a good 'uhn!'" Faith bluntly but honestly proved her point as always with a crude gesture.

"Again with the grunting. You realize I'm not comfortable with this," Buffy joked. She could certainly think of one vampire that made her want to give him a good "uhn". No, no, no, she immediately scolded herself. No grunting. Spike was evil, and wrong, and ate humans, and that was definitely of the ew. She did not get off on fighting him... At all.

"Hey, slaying's what we were built for. If you're not enjoying it, you're doing something wrong." Oh so that's why it felt so right.

* * *

><p>The reconnaissance mission Wesley sent them out on that night turned out to be a bit more exciting than expected. Her and Faith ended up taking out a whole group of Illuminati. Nothing like almost dying to get your blood pumping. She was really starting to feel what Faith was all about. The rush you got when you were fighting for your life and realize that you had the power. No, she was the power. Buffy was positively drunk off of it, and it was common knowledge that judgment is the first thing to go when you're under the influence, right? Instead of brains, the slayer was running off pure instinct. Faith's words that night echoed over and over in her head the next day. "Tell me you don't get off on this."<p>

Buffy needed more. For the first time in her young but trying life, she was free of the "burden" of slaying, she wanted to not only walk in the dark, but feel it, and thrive off of it. Xander and Willow were completely not interested in the story, they didn't understand, they couldn't. Buffy had always suspected that they were jealous of her calling. That's why they tagged along everywhere she went. They couldn't stand it because she had tasted things they couldn't even imagine. Even when she was surrounded by people that loved her, Buffy felt alone. When Faith had come to steal Buffy away from school, she'd gone all to willingly. Time to live a little.

* * *

><p>Spike couldn't decide whether he wanted to eat her or shag her into the bloody ground. The slayer made him want to do things with her he couldn't spell. Saucy little tease. Everywhere he went, she was there. Even when he was alone, she was all around him... And yet he'd still willingly followed her into the sodding place. There he was hiding in the shadows like a creature of the night, watching the slayer rub herself all over some boy she didn't know like some bitch in heat... God, she'd kill him, without even touching him, she'd kill him. No... He'd kill her first.<p>

Spike seized the opportunity to make an appearance when Buffy left her tantalizing dance to follow a meal-toting vamp outside. He waited for Buffy to emerge before dusting the vamp; the girl who was being attacked be damned. Point of fact, hearing her soft cries of struggle and desperation got him worked up even more than he already was. Spike was surprised when Buffy approached him leisurely. In her eyes he saw the same glare as always, but there was something else there, something that was emphasized by the almost smile she wore and the way she swung her hips.

"Saw you making friends," Spike growled, trying to sound like he couldn't care less. Those disgusting gits weren't worthy to touch her, they wouldn't even know what to do with a woman like Buffy. He'd treat her right- or wrong if she asked him. He inhaled deeply at that, as if steady breathing would help him keep his thoughts and misbehaving body in check. The slayer was for eating and killing, not kissing. The bitch was just messing with him, trying to get into his head.

"Jealous?" Buffy ran a hand down his shirt front. Despite the way she was handling herself, he reminded himself that she was practically a virgin. That was not helping, AT ALL.

"Bollocks. I could have you in a second if I wanted," he seethed. She smelled like all those nancyboys that had been pawing at her all night. A possessive streak shot through him. How he'd like to show her what a real man could do to her. He considered his earlier argument: shag her rotten or use her bones to bash her head in? The slayer peered up at him from underneath thick, dark lashes. Cor! He'd have her six ways from Sunday. Shag her it was.

"What's the hold up?" Buffy purred and took a step closer. The scent of power and arousal invaded his senses. She had the all too familiar look of a predator and a confidence he'd never seen in her before. He figured she must have been under the influence of something. Some sort of mojo from the great beyond, a spell. The girl was up to something.

"What's your game, slayer? Feeling too weak to do me properly? Heard about your recent lack of slayerness, love. Watcher's council been ridin' you hard?"

"You know? I could do anything I want, and all this time I've been pouting and whining and feeling the burden of slayerdom." She shrugged. "I mean, I could be rich, I could be famous. I could have anything... anyone... even you, Spike." Buffy smirked as she teased him. She was so close that he could feel waves of heat rolling off her body. Spike hardened painfully against his jeans and tried without avail to ignore what she was doing to him, still waiting for the punchline.

"I could ride you at a gallop until your legs buckled and your eyes rolled up. I've got muscles you never even dreamed of. I could squeeze you until you popped like warm champagne and begged me to hurt you just a little bit more." All he could think about was being inside her as she milked him with those delicious slayer muscles she mentioned, what those glossy sinful lips that were crooning such delicious little tidbits in his ear could do to him. Spike felt himself drawn to her, almost shuddering as he leaned in closer to her, angling his jaw down to hers.

"I'm done being careful. I have a new mantra now." She purred. "Want." Her lips came dangerously close. "Take." Arms slung firmly around his neck. "Have." She attacked his mouth hungrily. They were like lovers coming together after centuries of being kept apart in some epic tale, burning, and consuming each other. Spike groaned in her mouth and slammed her up against the alley wall. She would hurt him so good. Without hesitation, Buffy jumped up on him and her legs snapped around his hips like a vice. 'This could be heaven,' he thought, heaven had to be Buffy with all her hot slayer muscles and skin against his. She was a bloody angel, or it was hell and she was a succubus. He'd always suspected as much.

"You know I'll hurt you," The vampire warned her. His unnecessary breathing came in rapid and shallow pants as he attempted to work a skillful hand down the front of her skin tight leather pants. Buffy helped him by sliding them just enough off her hips and reached down to undo his.

"Counting on it." She slammed herself down on his rock-hard member, shrieking in both pain and pleasure as he filled her up. Spike gaped at her in pleasure-filled disbelief, she was burning him alive. She stared into his eyes, completely unguarded for the first time, letting him know even with tears in her eyes that he was exactly what she wanted. For the moment, at least.

* * *

><p>Spike grumbled and glared at a not particularly interesting nor offending cobweb on the ceiling. He was still trying to convince himself that the last night was just another one of the dreams Buffy had squirmed her way into. He inhaled sharply. God how she'd squirmed deliciously as he took her up against the wall without mercy. She took everything he gave her and then demanded more. That was just it though. In his dreams, Spike was gentle with her, he was slow and moved with purpose. When he was sleeping, he loved her. They were worse than bloody poltergeists! Whatever powers that forced those dreams into his head were cruel, clearly demonic.<p>

The bit of burning tobacco at the end of his cigarette fell to the ground and spike immediately replaced it with a new one, taking a thoughtful drag. The bitch had used him. She'd used him to hurt herself. When he'd imagined it, he imagined taking Buffy into his arms, warming his night-chilled flesh with her body and lying with her. Instead she had rode him _hard _as she clawed at his back underneath his shirt and yanked on his hair. Buffy had slammed herself down on him with so much force, over and over again, that she began to bleed. He'd very nearly forgotten that she was almost untouched up to that point.

Even though the Victorian gentleman in Spike screamed how wrong it was when Buffy's eyes began to well up in tears, the demon in him allowed it all to happen, his pleasure rising as she winced and shrieked in heartbreaking pain each time he buried himself completely inside her. His demon hungrily lapped up the blood she'd offered him on her fingers without hesitation and true to the words he had spoken when he tasted his first slayer, her blood really was an aphrodisiac. He came almost instantly when her blood touched his tongue, emptying himself inside her and shuddering. He'd barely nestled his cheek against hers when she promptly removed herself from him, refastened her pants, and walked off without a word, leaving him panting and confused with his still half-hard member covered in both of their fluids.a virgin up to that point

So there he was, lying in his own bed completely knackered, waiting for the sun to go down and wanking off with his parts still sore because he couldn't get the bitch out of his buggering mind.

* * *

><p>Buffy had felt unspeakably filthy and wrong as she sneaked into her house early that morning. Her mother knew full well about her slaying, but somehow it seemed like the baddest of the bad to run into her the woman who had loved and raised her, just after finishing having really incredible and kinky sex with her criminally attractive sworn enemy. At least that's what he used to be... Was he an enemy now? Buffy was feeling a much different kind of staking between her and Spike in the near future. It suddenly occurred to Buffy that she was the only one in the gang that knew Spike was back, there could be definite benefits to that! And once again more major badness if they found out. Color her selfish, but she wanted to have something that was hers and hers alone for the first time since she had found out about her calling.<p>

Unable to shower for fear of waking her mother up, Buffy flopped onto her bed, she could faintly smell him on her, the scent of Spike and sex. The sex had been... She couldn't really find the words for it, but it certainly hadn't been like it was with Angel. Buffy reached to retrieve her journal from her nightstand drawer and frowned when she saw the ring her beloved boyfriend turned evil psychotic serial killer had given to her as a token of his love. She thoughtfully ran a finger over the crest as she examined it before placing it back in the drawer.

As she wrote down the details of her night, it really set in how much of a terrible person she was. She had thought that her and Angel's love was eternal, or at least that it would last until her unavoidably short life as the slayer ended. She had more or less moved on. Although she recognized that the feelings she had for him were little more than hormones and the smokescreen of young teenage "love," she still hurt when she thought oa virgin up to that pointf the way she felt for him, and the way it felt when she had to shove a sword through his belly to stop the world from ending. No, that wasn't something you just "got over."

Buffy was terrible when it came to men. She killed her first serious boyfriend because it was her duty, got dumped by her rebound because she was boring, and Spike... Well she absolutely couldn't blame anyone else for that one. He had submitted to her completely, given her exactly what she wanted and she wouldn't even allow him to touch her like he wanted to, she'd refused allow him to hold her for even a moment and actually mean it. Spike looked at her with so much admiration and wonder, she didn't know what to do... No one had ever looked at her like that. Feeling ashamed of herself and the tell-tale burning between her legs, Buffy curled up with Mr. Gordo and began to weep until she passed out exhausted. What had she done?

* * *

><p>Horrifying images of rituals, bloodletting, and feral demons flashed through Buffy's head as she slept through the morning. Some of them were memories, things she had seen, even things she had done. Her dream took a dramatic turn when it focused on Angel. Angel giving her the ring, Angel and her making love, fighting Angelus to the death, the time she stuck a sword through him, and then a new image, a bestial and feral Angel emerging from the mouth of Acathla at the mansion. Buffy's eyes snapped open. The dream was unusually clear, a slayer dream, and she was left knowing one thing- Angel was back.<p>

* * *

><p>Hmmm I wonder where this little Angel development is going... Any thoughts?<p>

Thanks for reading (;

Descartre


	6. Wrong

Sorry it took so long, I've been real busy. Promise to do better. (:

-Descartre

* * *

><p>Chapter 6: Wrong<p>

* * *

><p>The sun had barely begun to set when Buffy awoke from her nightmare. Her slayer dreams were always that way- Dark, violent, confusing, not to mention exhausting. Then again, maybe the unusual tiredness was just from her long night out with Faith. She sat up and groaned at the dull ache between her legs. Buffy's eyes widened comically when she remembered that her little rendezvous with Spike was not just part of dream-filled sleep, it was real. Oh God.<p>

She looked down at herself, still wearing the outfit she had worn to the Bronze. She totally did it with Spike! Buffy groaned and fell back on to her pillow. She so did not have time to deal with anything Spike related. The still tired slayer rolled over to look at her alarm clock. Time to go to work. She hadn't even touched her feet to the ground when the phone rang.

"Hello?" She growled into the reciever.

"Buffy, oh thank heavens you're alright, I haven't been able to reach you all day! I have some rather important news." She could practically hear Giles cleaning his glasses. Just what she needed, another apocalypse to distract her.

"What's the skinny?"

"The, erm what?"

"The sitch, the 411..." More confused silence. "What's up?"

"It seems as though a student, Theresa Evans, was mauled to death by some sort of vicious animal last night." No on the apocalypse then, Buffy pouted. It was really creepy how casual news like this was for the scoobies. Still, poor Theresa...

"Did Oz escape last night?" She frowned. Buffy had totally forgotten about the full moon.

"Well at first we thought it was a werewolf attack, but the bitemarks aren't quite right and there weren't any hairs left behind for us to examine."

"Giles, I need to know what kind of beasty I'm up against here."

"I'll look into it, Buffy. I believe it goes without saying that I'll need you to patrol tonight, but please, be careful. Perhaps bring Faith with you. Until I can figure out what we are dealing with, I feel it would be best for you to proceed with caution."

"I'm caution girl," Buffy supplied. Hmm what was big, scary, had teeth, no hair, and was new in town? Buffy paled as the reality fo the situation hit her like a ton of bricks. Angel.

"I'll contact you as soon as we know anything further."

She hung up without another word.

* * *

><p>Buffy threw open the lid to her weapons chest and began stuffing a wholere repository of things into her designated slayer-bag. She had no idea what she was going to find at the mansion, but she damn sure was going to be prepared for whatever Angelus had to throw at her this time. Angel could never be that wild, right?<p>

She was still trying to decide whether or not she should tell Giles about her dream. No, it was probably better that she didn't tell the gang. Faith could definitely be of use on this one. Buffy could always do well with some extra non-judgy man.. er womanpower. She trampled down the stairs with her bag of artillery when she was stopped dead in her tracks by her mother's voice.

"Buffy?" she called, "You finally awake honey?"

Buffy's face instantly turned red as she remembered why she hadn't wanted to run into her mom in the first place. The slayer found her mother in the kitchen making dinner as usual... and talking to some- "SPIKE?" Her entire body was instantly racked with a mixture of nerves, embarrassment, and absolute confusion... Then came the usual blind fury she could associate only with someone as annoying as Spike.

"Buffy," her mom crooned as she stroked her daughter's hair gave her a concerned look. "Did you have a long night? I was going to wake you up honey, but you looked absolutely exhausted when I came up to check on you." Buffy glanced at Spike over her mother's shoulder. He raised his eyebrows at her and put on his own show of concern.

"Oh yeah, Buffy. You look right knackered. Some big bad get a piece of you last night?" Buffy flushed red and pulled away from her mother, instantly feeling ashamed. He never used her name, and now that he did, it sounded pornographic and wrong. Right! Because Spike was wrong, very WRONG. Buffy instantly became defensive.

"Mom what is he doing here?" Her voice was a few notes higher than usual. Stupid body. It never behaved the way she wanted to- If it did, she wouldn't be in this situation.

"Oh Spike just got back in town and thought he'd stop by to see if you wanted to patrol. Isn't that nice?"

"Right." Buffy rolled her eyes and gave Spike a reproving look as she spoke to her mother. "Just thought he'd take a casual stroll in the middle of the day and end up in my kitchen, drinking hot chocolate with my mother." Her eyes narrowed when they fell upon the two half finished cups on the counter. "Are those mini marshmallows?"

"Could have joined us if you weren't upstairs, snoozing away." Spike reprimanded her. "What's the matter, slayer? Beat from monster wrestling all night?" Buffy scowled at him in disgust. It didn't go unnoticed by her mother.

"Buffy, just what is the matter with you? I thought you two were friends! You're always saying how you have so much work to do."

"I so don't have time for this," Buffy muttered. "Yep we're great friends! Well come on, Spikey! Sun's down and I have things to do."

"Right then." He looked at her baffled, clearly expecting a different response, then turned and laid a kiss on her mom's hand. "Thank you for your wonderful hospitality, Joyce."

"You're welcome anytime." She blushed.

Buffy was thoroughly wigged, if she didn't know any better, she would think her mom was macking on Spike. Gross! Buffy literally dragged him outside and pushed him away from her as soon as her mother could no longer see her.

"You know? You're a real piece of work, slayer! Get a fella's motor revvin', let the tension marinate a couple of days, then bam- Crown yourself the ice queen!"

"Need a few more metaphors for that mix? And it hasn't even been a day! Clingy much?" Spike scowled at that and shook his head.

"I was referring to the first time slayer. Snogging a bloke silly is one thing, but you can't just run off after something like last night. We had something there, Buffy. I felt it, and I know you did too." Buffy tried to give him the brush off. Instead Spike pulled her behind a tree and began doing deliciously wrong things to her. Buffy moaned softly, nearly willing to submit to him again, but hardly a moment later she remembered exactly where she was and what it was she needed to be doing, this sexy master vampire in particular was not it.

"Spike," she tried to protest, but it came out as more of a desperate plea.

"Tell me you don't want it Buffy," he dared. "Say it."

"Spike... Ohh... But-" he distracted her by nipping at her neck.

"No," she gulped. "Spike I have something I need to be doing."

"God I know slayer, me too- me too." He murmured against her skin as he sucked at her collarbone. She would have lost herself in him again, but seeing him playing house with her mother really made her realize how way wrong it was for him to walk in her world.

"I can't," she whimpered. "We can't."

"Don't say that," he had his fingertips just underneath her waistband. Time to bring out the big guns. Buffy knew what she had to say.

"Angel's back." Spike immediately stiffened at that.

"What did you say?" Nothing that happened in Sunnydale could ever come as a surprise. Everyday was a whole new apocalypse. Bloody Angelus ruining everything he touched again? Should have seen that coming. Some blokes didn't know how to stay dead.

"Angel-"

"Is back," he checked and gave her a measuring look. Questioning her honesty or her sanity. After a few long moments of silence between them he seemed to accept it as the truth.

"And you're certain, slayer?"

"Well I had a dream." She approached the subject tentatively. If there was anything Spike had learned from all his hundred plus years of unlife with Dru, it was that dreams could be incredibly valuable, and worryingly accurate. Just look at what had happened between him and the slayer. If she was right, and Angel was back...

He was filled with a sudden sense of dread and abandonment. Dru had always preferred the ponce to him, and so did Buffy. No... so would Buffy. Here she was, running off to be with her precious Angelus again like nothing had ever happened. He turned a furious glare on her.

"Right. That's bleeding marvelous, slayer." He let go of her like she'd stung him. "So you're shagging me and dreaming of Captain Forehead all the while?" Bitch. He turned around in a huff and began to stalk off.

"Spike." Buffy said his name as if he were missing something very obvious. She may have been applying the brakes to their little "thing", but Buffy would be damned if she allowed him to make her feel like his skanky old hoe Drusilla. God, how she hated her.

"What?" He snapped and rounded on her.

"You're a moron!" Confusion was etched in his features until he noticed her bag of weapons. Wasn't a social visit, then.

"I know you're kinky slayer, but-" Buffy punched him in the nose.

"God, can you get your mind out of the gutter for one second! How do you even function with all the blood rushing to your..." she was too embarrassed to say the last of it. Spike angrily wiped the blood from his nose.

"Oh what you can't say it?" He sneered at her. "You didn't seem to take issue with it last night."

"Spike... Last night was a mistake, one that won't happen again. Just... go home," she sighed wearily, and once again left Spike standing there, confused, rejected, and lonely.

"You'll be back slayer! I'm in your blood now! It's only a matter of time before you realize you've got no one else, pet!" he called after her. "Buffy..."

* * *

><p>Buffy's heart thudded painfully inside her chest as she made her way through the rear courtyard of the old mansion on Crawford Street. The front gate had long since been locked, apparently to keep out anyone who might be up to no good. Yeah right. Just about everyone in Sunnydale was at an absolute disconnect with reality, with all the things that were happening around them, and they were worried about human intruders and mugging of all things. Regardless, even if she did long for someone to share an understanding with, it was her job to keep it that way. "Spike knows what he's talking about," her id nagged at her. "He's right, you don't have anyone." Yeah right, like she needed anyone else.<p>

Still protected by the low sun, Buffy rifled through her bag and uncovered a long blade. She hadn't been willing to use a sword in battle ever since she'd stuck one through her old lover; that was one memory that would never go away, regardless of how many distractions she attempted to surround herself with. When she had prepared herself for what needed to be done, she'd done it tenderly, told him to close his eyes, but she'd never forget the look on his face when he realized that he'd been betrayed. She was good at that, betrayal. Sometimes all she could do was pretend that she was just another demon, one without feeling or emotion, she was a warrior and the thrill of battle was her best friend.

An eerie light seeped through the covered windows and doors of the forgotten building, a mixture of the moonlight, and the late twilight haze. Most things in Sunnydale would be enough to give anyone the wiggins, but for Buffy, those times were few and far between. Most things were fine for her. Get the spiritual realm and alternate dimensions involved though, and she was messing with worlds she had no control over. The absence of control was one thing she really could NOT handle right now. No one liked feeling helpless.

Buffy held the ring Angel had given her in her palm and looked at it sadly. Would she have to kill him again? Was it Angel or Angelus she had expected to find there? A few moments of silence passed as she tried to prepare herself for what might come. As if on cue, some rustling in the overgrowth that surrounded much of the grounds attracted her attention.

"Angel?" She was hesitant as she called out. "You there?" God this was just like some cheesy horror flick, wasn't it?

Buffy tensed up immediately, but even with her slayer reflexes, she couldn't react in time to the oversized fleshy monster that came barreling at her. The slayer was thrown flat on her back and landed with a huff. Confusion and recognition rushed through her as she stared up at an old familiar face and gasped for the wind that had been knocked out of her.

"Angel," she breathed shakily and reached up to touch his cheek and make sure he was real, but he snarled and snapped his teeth at her when she tried, like he was some sort of beast. This Angel was something new entirely, not Angel nor Angelus- he was wild, vicious, and... well, naked. Angel was obviously out of control. Buffy strained to get out from underneath him, but her sword had fallen just out of reach. Her entire body was riddled with fear and regret as Angel growled and panted on top of her. "Get off me!" she spat through tightly grit teeth and tried to throw him off, but before she could manage, he dove in for her neck with fully extended slayer braced herself for the pain but it never came.

* * *

><p>"You'd think a few hundred years of torture and torment would teach you some sodding respect, mate."<p>

"Spike?" Buffy gaped at him. He really did just save her life, didn't he? She was completely immobilized from the shock as she watched the two vampires she'd been intimate with wrestle around on the ground. Under different circumstances, it might have been interesting. Spike definitely had him in skill, and it looked like that was the defining advantage.

"Are you just going to stand there admiring me, or would you throw me some of those chains already!" He shouted to her in an annoyed tone as he tried to restrain the angry, feral master vampire that was flopping around like a freshly angled fish. His sarcasm immediately sobered Buffy up. Why couldn't her heroes ever be sweet and you know, heroic?

She managed to find some of the chains she brought with her and snapped the cuffs around Angel's wrists. She looked at him and remembered Theresa. She had just partnered up with her in gym class a few days before. She was pretty cool, one of the few people at their school that didn't look at her like she was a freak.

"Get up," Buffy screamed at Angel. Unsurprisingly, he did, as ready for a fight as she was. He was already weary from his tussle with Spike, but Buffy knew she could get a few good licks in before he collapsed. With all the strength that came with being the appointed demon police, she slammed her fist into his jaw, and a knee to his stomach. Angel doubled over and fell to the ground, upon which the slayer unceremoniously dragged him by his chains behind her. When Buffy had secured him inside, she glared at the monster he had become one more time, and dropped the ring he had given her at her feet. Until she figured this out, he was dead to her. For real dead.

* * *

><p>Spike had seen the whole thing. He definitely was not a psychologist, but he'd been around long enough to be able to read people without much effort. Buffy was a tricky one for most to figure out, but she made perfect sense to him. At first he thought she was just a feisty, saucy little girl with a penchant for kicking ass and fighting evil, but every time he saw her, he learned something new about her. She was shy when it came to the living, unable to connect with any of them. She was sharper than people gave her credit for, and she allowed it because she didn't want the responsibility of being an intellectual. Lately what had been clear to him was that she felt more than everyone else around her. Hell, in almost every aspect she was more than everyone else around her. Buffy put on this thick calloused exterior because she didn't want anybody to worry about her. All the while, the girl was all alone.<p>

"You're still here?" Buffy grumbled as she returned to the courtyard to collect her weapons. Once again, she had that stony mask on.

"That the kind of thanks you give your savior? Gee slayer, make me feel like bloody prince charming. No wonder no one wants to be around you." He prodded at her with his words, trying to get her to crack.

"Well you certainly don't seem to have a problem with it." Her eyes narrowed.

"You'd be kibble if it weren't for me and you know it."

"Thanks," Buffy replied emptily and stared at the ground. It struck him as odd that she hadn't tried to leave yet. The girl was waiting for something.

"It's nothing you did, you know," Spike supplied helpfully. He knew that Buffy had to be feeling guilty. He could see her thinking that Angel came back wrong because SHE sent him to Hell. Like a true slayer, she always thought everything was about her. Bitch.

He wanted to leave her standing there for a change, but something inside him wouldn't allow it. The girl looked like she was on the verge of tears, and the old gentleman's manners were still imprinted deep beneath the skin. The Victorians really drilled you hard. He couldn't leave the girl he loved crying because of him.

"Angel was wrong before he even met you. Soul or no soul. Even as a human he was a real wanker.

"You're wrong."

"How do you figure, love?"

"Souls do matter. You don't have a soul. You can't love without a soul."

"I damn well can!" Spike was just angry now. Chivalry be damned! "You know, maybe it's you!"

"What?"

"You're too busy running around with a stick so far up your end, you can't even remember what it's like to feel things." Buffy opened her mouth to argue, but instead she just looked at the ground sadly and seemed to accept what he said as the truth. It was, but he didn't mean to hurt her feelings. "You're just taking it out on me because you know I can make you feel things. It's easier when you feel a little less than human, isn't it slayer?"

"You're right. Can I go now?" Her pride made her impatient.

"In a minute! I just want to make sure of something first." She looked at him questioningly and he grinned. "You do agree that he's a wanker, right?" Buffy had to swallow a giggle.

"Come on, slayer… The night is young, for both of us! We'll…." She looked tired and he had to think of something that she couldn't find a good reason to say no to. "We'll rent girly movies, drink scotch, and sit on our arses all day. I finally bought a couch and a television."

"You do know I'm seventeen, right?" She laughed at him. "My mother wouldn't approve. You're a bad influence." Spike was over the moon about her making jokes. He lit a cigarette and did that thing with his mouth that always threw her game off. Spike relished the way the sound of her heart hitched for just a moment when he looked at her like that.

"What can I tell you baby? I've always been baaad."

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading. Tbc. As usual, feel free to let me know if you have any issues with the story.<p> 


End file.
